Untold Lies and Secrets
by horseandbooklover
Summary: Everyone has secrets, but what happens when secrets turn into lies and ruin lives? Follow Hermione and Draco as Hermione learns that what she once believed is not as it seems and Draco fights to break away from familial casts. The road is tough, however, and forces everywhere are fighting against them every step of the way. Will they be stronger together or torn apart?
1. The Lies Surface

**Untold Lies and Secrets**

**Chapter 1 – The Lies Surface**

It was time to tell her the truth. He should have told her back in her third year but didn't know how, he was too cowardly. He still was. But as the street lights flickered, Remus John Lupin knew that if he didn't tell her now, he never would. Even if it was horrible timing, with Hermione returning to school tomorrow.

Which is how Remus found himself in Muggle London, standing on the Granger's from stoop. The wind blew fiercely and it bit at his skin through his cloak. He winced slightly, knowing that his pain now would be nothing compared to how Hermione would respond to his news. A storm was brewing, and not just the rain storm.

Hesitantly, he knocked on the door and waited for a response, secretly hoping that no one would answer. Just moments later, though, Hermione opened the door and Remus was one again blown away by how much she looked like and reminded him of _Her_. When Hermione saw who opened the door, her mouth opened in surprise.

"Professor Lupin? What can I do for you?"

Remus smiled timidly. "Do you mind if I come in?" Hermione's eyes widened as she realized that she was being rude by not inviting him in, especially with the horrendous weather outside. Hermione stepped off to the side and ushered her old Professor in.

Upon entering the Granger abode, Remus saw Dan and Laura Granger sitting on the couch in the sitting room watching the telly. Dan noticed Remus's arrival first, turning off the telly and standing up. Laura looked at her husband in confusion, having not noticed Remus yet. Following her husband's gaze to their guest, Laura also stood to greet him, a solemn look appearing on her soft features.

"Hello Remus," Dan greeted, holding out his hand. Hermione's brow furrowed, she had never introduced her parents to Professor Lupin, or any of her other teachers for that matter. Remus smiled wearily at Laura, a gesture she returned. After sharing a hesitant look, the three adults sat down, the Grangers on the couch, and Remus on an armchair close to the fireplace.

"Hermione, dear, why don't you come sit down?" Hermione moved to sit in between her mum and dad, waiting for the explanation she was going to demand soon, to start.

"I suspect you're already packed and ready to leave for school tomorrow?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, her brain working in overload, trying to figure out what was going on. "I was actually wondering why you're here, though."

The attentive young woman didn't miss the look the three adults shared. "Well you see, Hermione, your mum and I have some news to tell you."

"What's the matter? Is something wrong?" her mind automatically jumped to the worst possible scenarios, wondering if something had happened to Harry or Ron.

"No, dear. Nothing like that," Laura continued, grabbing her daughter's hand and enfolding it between her own. "I don't really know how to tell you this, but…"

"You're mum and I aren't you real parents, Hermione," Dan finished.

Hermione froze, wondering what kind of sick trick her parents were playing on her. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, pulling her hand away from her mum's. "Of course you're my parents! I'm Hermione Jean Granger, you're my parents, and I'm your daughter!"

Remus cleared his throat, drawing Hermione's attention to him. "Hermione, I'm your father."

**This is just a little taste of what's to come, I hope you enjoyed it. I have about the next six or so chapters written and the beginning of the next chapter typed out. I might be able to post the next chapter tomorrow, I'm not quite sure because I have a lot going on this week, but I will try my hardest.**


	2. And the Walls Come Tumbling Down

**Untold Lies and Secrets**

**Chapter 2 – And the Walls Come Tumbling Down**

Silence fell over the room like a suffocating cloak as they waited with baited breath for Hermione's reaction. She stood and began to pace, reminding Remus once more of her mother, who used to do that all the time when her brain was working on overload.

"You must be joking," she said, talking more to herself than the anxious adults watching her. "You _must_ be!"

"It's no joke, Hermione," Remus started, and knew that he couldn't stop now, despite seeing the hurt and pain in his daughter's eyes. "I met your mother, Audrey, during my Seventh Year, and her Sixth, at Hogwarts. We started dating and fell in love. After she graduated we moved into a flat together in Diagon Alley and got married. She became pregnant with you three months later. She worked with Madam Malkin because it was always her passion. She died giving birth to you; there was nothing the Medi-witches could do.

"You were born a week before the full moon and I knew that someday, if I kept you, I would hurt you. And with the war going on, I thought you would be safer with Muggles. So I found the Grangers, and they took you in as their daughter."

Tears formed in the young girl's eyes as she watched her world fall apart. Everything she had grown up believing in was wrong. A lie.

"I hate all of you!" She yelled, and stormed out of the room, racing up the stairs room. Remus stood up, a distraught look in his eyes that could only come from his child saying that she hated him. He wanted to go and comfort her, his cub, but Dan stopped him.

"Leave her alone for a while, Remus. Just so she can think things out in her own way. She always goes up to her room to think when she gets upset. Hermione'll look at everything we've told her and then she come to terms with it by herself in no time at all. Just wait." Remus paused, taking the other man's information in - things that he never knew about Hermione because he hadn't raised her - nodded, but still looked wistfully at the stairs.

The weary man sat down again, knowing that he shouldn't impose for much longer, but wanting to be with Hermione if she had any questions. He didn't want her thinking that he was just going to leave her all the time. Remus wanted her to know that, if she wanted him for anything, anything at all, he would do his best to help her any way he could.

A lightning strike sounded, making the lights flicker. A window slammed shut and a piercing gust of wind blew through the flat, making the hairs on his arms stand up. Remus looked to the Grangers, wondering if this was to be expected during a storm. Their shocked expressions were answer enough that they had no idea what was going on.

Remus shot up from his seat and raced up the stairs, Dan and Laura not far behind, and followed his daughter's scent into what ended up being her bedroom. Right away, he saw the open window, rain and wind rushing into the room with force, and Remus knew that he wouldn't have to look for her anywhere in the room; she wasn't going to be in here. She was out there.

Dan moved to the far corner of the room to close the window, cursing as something out of the ordinary grabbed his attention instead. Remus turned sharply, wanting to know what it was that he noticed and if it could help them find Hermione.

"The broom's gone! She doesn't know how to fly, and in this weather she's likely to get herself killed." Laura rapidly filling eyes burst and she sank down onto Hermione's bed, sobs racking her body. Ignoring the window, Dan went to comfort his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her out of the room.

Remus went to the window and looked out of it, hoping to find his daughter not too far off. "Hermione!" he called out in despair, hoping, but knowing that the chances were slim, that she could hear him over the rage of the storm. But he saw, and heard, nothing.

Dejectedly, he closed the window and turned back to survey his daughter's room. He could see her personality everywhere he looked, from the three ceiling high bookshelves filled with books to the impeccable way her bed was made and her truck that sat waiting by the door, probably packed for weeks in anticipation of boarding the Hogwarts Express tomorrow.

As he was walking out of her room, he couldn't help but notice all of the pictures adorning her walls. Harry and Ron were present in a lot of them, but so where Dan and Laura. There were so many of Dan, Laura, and Hermione at family outings in the park or during birthdays. All the things that Remus had missed.

He knew he couldn't really be upset, though, because it was his decision to place Hermione with the Grangers. His decision to keep her safe from him and the war. His decision to abandon his cub and leave her with practical strangers. But what choice did he have? He had so little control over the beast, and he knew, _he knew, _that if he hadn't made the decision to leave Hermione with the Grangers, then he would have lost her. And after losing Audrey, Remus knew that he wouldn't be able to stand losing Hermione as well.

Closing the door behind him, Remus descended the stairs, finding Dan and Laura sitting on the couch, trying to comfort each other. "I'll owl Dumbledore and let him know what has happened. I will let you know if anything comes up." Dan nodded and led his wife into the kitchen with the promise of some soothing tea.

Remus saw himself out, not even flinching when the rain water pelted his face and soaked through all his layers. He was numb, his only thoughts on Hermione and finding her unharmed. He walked away from the Granger's flat and down an alley way where he used Apparition to get to Grimmauld's Place.

Upon entering his best mate's flat, Remus heard voices in the kitchen; a meeting, he presumed, that had been called on last minute. Harry and Ron were in the sitting room along with the twins and Ginny, play Gobstones. Harry noticed Remus first; he stood up and was on his way to talk to his pervious teacher and friend when he realized how sullen Remus was.

"Remus, are you okay?" Harry's question caught the attention of the Weasley children and they too, stood up. Very rarely had Harry seen Remus this sullen, and when he had, it never boded well. Harry became even more concerned when Remus didn't respond to him.

Remus moved despondently closer to the kitchen, knowing that this was all his fault. That he should have told her sooner. That he should have – that he should have done things differently.

(Does Harry follow him) Remus pushed the door to the kitchen open and the voices immediately ceased, thinking that one of the children were trying to eavesdrop. There had been a meeting taking place. Molly, Arthur, Sirius, Mad-eye, Tonks, Kingsley, Hagrid, Snape, and Dumbledore were in attendance. Tonks quickly ran over to Remus, placing her hands on his forearms, trying to get his attention.

Remus looked at Dumbledore. "When I told her she ran out of the room." Tonks gasped and buried her head in his sopping robs, not caring that she, too, was getting all wet. The rest of the room knew what was going on and felt sympathy for Remus. Knowing how much he had agonized over if he should tell Hermione, and how he should go about it. "I thought she was just going to her room to think things through, but she left on her broom. She doesn't know how to fly, Albus. And in this weather… The Death Eaters could get to her. Please, Albus, you have to do something."

"Of course, Remus. We will do everything in our power to make sure she is unharmed. Rest assured we won't stop until we find out where she is." Tonks led Remus to a seat by the fire and Dumbledore turned his attention to the rest of the room. "Kingsley, go to the Ministry and keep your ears and eyes open. If Miss Granger was in Muggle London she could've attracted unwanted attention that they would know about. Severus, go to Voldemort and see if they are aware of any of this, but don't say that Miss Granger is missing. Hagrid, head to Hogwarts and see if you can't find her there. If Miss Granger lost control of her broom and she isn't on the grounds, I suggest you gather the Centaurs and request their help in finding her. Arthur, go to your home. That has been like a second home to her for close to seven years now, and there is a slim possibility that she is there. I'd ask that everyone else stay here and be on guard, if she finds her way here, we have no way of knowing if anything, or anyone, was following her." As everyone received their tasks, people started to disperse from the room.

Tonks kneeled down in front of Remus after waving her wand over him to rid his clothes of the rain water. "It'll be alright, Remus. She's the smartest witch of her age. She won't do anything stupid or reckless." Remus didn't respond, just looked into the fire despondently as he hoped and prayed with his entire being that no harm would come to his daughter.

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I love to know what you think. The next chapter or two will also be a little shorter, but then they start to get longer. I'm also looking for a beta for Harry Potter and Twilight stories, if you know anyone, let me know.**


	3. More Surprises

**Untold Lies and Secrets**

**Chapter 3 – More Surprises **

Hermione could barely see through the storm due to her tear-filled eyes and hair whipping all around her face. And while she knew she ought to do something about those problems, she refused to let go of the broom, petrified of what could happen if she did. The second she left her room, her denims and thin jumper were soaked through and her teeth chattered from the cold that seeped bone deep as the rain continued to sting her skin.

The broom wavered underneath her and she held on even tighter than before, wondering why she never got Harry or Ron to properly teach her how to fly. Hermione looked down as one of the trainers she'd rushed to put on fell to the angry waters beneath her. Her stomach turned and forced its way up her throat when she saw how far off the ground she was and how tiny everything else appeared.

Oh, right. That's why she never learned how to fly. Because she was _bloody petrified_ of heights!

Her pale hands shook on the handle and she almost fell off over a bed of rocks by the shore. She had no idea where she was or where she was going, or even how to land the broom, but she knew that she had to stop soon. If only to be sure that she had landed safely before she inevitably blacked out from pain.

"Merlin's bollocks," Hermione cursed when the broom jerked her hard, left and right in rapid succession. "Of course, when one thing goes wrong,bloody _everything_ has to go wrong? Just my rotten luck," she muttered to herself. "Remus John Lupin, my father! This is almost as funny as Divination. Has to be some prank Ron cooked up. The prat." She couldn't, no, she _wouldn't _believe this. It was a hoax. It had to be…

While Hermione was lost in thought, the rain turned to hail and pelted her viciously, leaving no part of her body unharmed. Hermione lost control of the broom when a particularly large pelt hit her square on her forehead and her instinct was to use her hands to try to rub away the burning sting despite her qualms about letting go of the broom.

The broom descended wicked fast and Hermione could do nothing but re-grab the handle and hold on for dear life. As she got closer to the ground, Hermione saw she was headed straight for a cliff with an imposing rocky shore at the base. She knew that if she ran into the imposing rock wall, she wouldn't make it to see her descent to the rocks, not that she would want to. But despite everything that was going on, she didn't want to die. So with all her might, she wished and prayed that the broom would pull up and she would be safe from her rocky demise. But just in case she didn't make it, she closed her eyes and hoped for the best.

Minutes later, when Hermione still hadn't crashed, she opened her eyes, delighted to see that the broom had pulled up. Before she could be too happy, though, Hermione realized that she was flying straight into the tree tops of a large forest, but this time, there was no time for her to pull up and avoid more torture to her body. Hermione hunched over, trying to brace her body mentally and physically for more pain. She had a sinking feeling that this was going to be way worse than battling with the Whomping Willow with Harry in her Third Year.

The first branch was rather large in width and hit Hermione in her stomach, making her double over in pain and incapable of seeing the next branch that hit her in the head, making her fall from the broom.

Her limbs tangled together and twisted in various unnatural directions as she was struck by all the twigs and sticks poking out from the trees on her downward descent, helpless without her wand to cushion her fall. Just on her face she could feel a trickle of blood from her hairline, knew she had busted her lip, and one eye was swollen shut. She winced and could only imagine what other injuries she had suffered.

Her abused body took one final blow when it landed harshly on the sopping ground, mud splattering all over her body and hair, darkness creeping along the edges of her vision. Hermione tried to will her body to move, but it remained stubbornly motionless. She kept on trying, though, and finally succeeded in moving her left arm slightly, but quickly stopped when pain shot up her arm and she whimpered in agony.

Tears fell from the corners of her eyes, washing away some of the mud and blood that had covered her most of her face, but stinging her open cuts. Hermione willed herself to stop crying, knowing that it wouldn't help her situation. The one thing that finally went her way, though, was that all of the tree cover protected her from a majority of the rain.

_Definitely way worse that the Womping Willow,_ she thought before succumbing to unconsciousness.

Draco Malfoy was walking through the enchanted forest on the edge of his family's property, a simple charm keeping he protected from the rain, mud, and freezing temperatures. He had needed to get away, as he often found himself feeling recently. Mainly from the Dark Lord and all his talk about power, killing Potter, and the necessity of Pure Blood, but also from the pressures of being Lucius Malfoy's son.

The elder Malfoy detested his offspring, almost of as much as he hated his wife, which he made little effort of hiding. In Lucius's eyes, Draco could do nothing right. There was always something wrong with him. He was too tall, he looked too much like his fainthearted mother, he let the Mudblood best him in his courses, he let Potter beat him in Quidditch, he wasn't as vindictive as he should be, etc… The list went on forever.

Draco had grown up with these comments directed at him his entire life, and while he didn't let them bother him as much anymore, there were still times when he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have a father that actually cared about him or friends that hung out with him because they liked him, not his galleons.

Pansy was his one true friend, the only one besides his mother who he felt he could really talk to. But very rarely did they actually have time when they could talk openly and truthfully because Crabbe and Goyle were always following him around and his father often got suspicious if Draco went anywhere without Crabbe and Goyle. On the off chance that he was able to sneak away, though, he and Pansy would meet in the Room of Requirement – which he had found by accident when he needed a private place after receiving a particularly disturbing letter from his father – and talk for hours together sipping hot chocolate.

Today was one of the days that his father's actions and words actually got under his skin. Draco had been walking to the kitchens to get some biscuits when he had walked by the Library. He could hear his father yelling from a distance, but he couldn't make out the angry words, and he winced in empathy for whoever had to endure his father's wrath for the time being.

As he got closer, however, he could begin to understand what his father was saying. "You're nothing but a dozy bint! A useless _bitch_ that can't do anything right! I don't know why I haven't gotten rid of you yet, you worthless witch!"

Fear trickled down Draco's spine as he realized who his father was talking to: his mother. It wasn't the first time he had threatened to kill her, and it most likely would not be the last. His mother would never stand up to his father or do anything to defend herself. Draco knew she tried to hide it, but he often saw her favoring one side of her body or wincing if he hugged her.

Lucius Malfoy beat his wife.

Draco also knew that she allowed it because she didn't want Lucius to turn his attention to Draco if he ever got bored with her. Every time Draco tried to ask her about it, she would promptly change the subject, and if he tried to persist, she would give him _The Look_ and he would stop. _The Look_ had made him cower when he was five years old and he suspected it would continue to have that effect on him for the rest of his life.

As Draco walked closer to the Library, he debated going in and standing up for his mother, but then she would give him _The Look _and a stern talking to, most likely while trying to help him nurse his wounds carefully. Because it was a sure thing that if he intervened, he would feel his father's too. It physically pained him to walk past the Library, like he had not a care in the world what was happening in there, but he did it, not wanting to make things worse for his beloved mother.

Many times after one of his father's "episodes" with his mother, Draco would secretly watch Narcissa care for her wounds, wondering why she never healed them completely and why she never asked him for help when she knew that he was an exceptional healer. Later on he realized that if she did heal all her wounds, it would just give Lucius more reason to hurt her. His excuse being that she was too cowardly to take it like a Pure Blood, so he would have to punish her again to make her see reason. And she never asked Draco for help because she didn't want him to see her like that. She felt she needed to be strong for her son.

Incidents like this made Draco want to take his mother and run away. Find a better life somewhere else, maybe in America, or Italy. His mother loved Italy. But he knew that if they did that, then Lucius would be furious and he probably _would_ kill them both for thinking they could leave him. Lucius would hate how that would make him look. The other Pure Bloods would be whispering behind his back about how Lucius Malfoy couldn't keep his wife and son in line. That would kill Lucius. Image was everything to him, and if his was ruined, he would stop at nothing to get back at those that had, in his mind, ruined his life.

These were the thoughts that drove Draco to the enchanted forest. Here, he could be alone with his thoughts and potentially get lost to the point where no one could find him, unless they used magic, because these woods covered acres of land. The thick, dense trees made it nearly impossible to see ten paces in front of you, and it was practically dark all the time because of the leafy tops of the numerous trees.

As Draco continued walking, he almost tripped on an oddly shaped branch lying on the ground. Draco crouched down and picked up the stick, wondering what type of tree it could have come from. Seeing as he wanted to be a Medi-wizard, Herbology and Potions were his best classes. Draco knew the name and magical properties of almost every tree, plant, and fungus in this forest, having spent much time during his lonely summers in here studying, memorizing, and observing each of the different species, but he didn't immediately recognize this one. Draco turned the piece of wood over in his hand, the texture too smooth to be anything native to this forest, but wait… there. There was an etching of some sort towards the curved end of the stick. Bringing it closer to his eyes, Draco realized that it wasn't part of a tree branch at all, but the end to the handle of an old Cleansweep One. He hadn't seen one of these in ages. When they had first come out, they were one of the best brooms, but now they paled in comparison to the newer Firebolts and Nimbus brooms.

Draco stood, still clutching the broomstick in his hand, wondering how it could have gotten there. He had a Firebolt and had never owned any of the Cleansweeps, if Pansy had come over (not that she would because she hated Draco's father almost more than he did), she would have just used the Floo, and all of the Death Eaters preferred their darker form of apparition that came from the Dark Lord's mark.

Instantly on alert, Draco pulled his wand out from his inside suit pocket and performed a simple _Lumos Maxima _spell, hoping that the extra light would bring forth any other anomalies on the forest floor. Sure enough, Draco spotted two other pieces of the badly splintered broom handle a couple of paces away. The next anomaly Draco found nearly took his breath away. Peeking out from an extremely large tree, Draco saw a blue and green trainer. "Hello?" he called out, slowly circling around the tree to see if there was anyone wearing the shoe. Sure enough, as he got closer to the trainer, he saw that a foot was in the trainer and said foot was attached to a leg. The other foot, however, didn't have a blue and green trainer to match. Instead, the white sock was covered in mud and sopping wet.

"Hello?" he called out again, figuring that a drunken witch or wizard had fallen off their broom. Draco continued to move steadily closer to the body, wand at the ready. As he was about to round the base of the tree, though, he noticed a quickly growing red stain on the filthy denims and various other rips tears in the fabric.

His Medi-wizard instincts kicking in, Draco rushed over to kneel down by the body, running his hands gently over the legs of the person to see how bad the damage was. When he noticed the heavily swollen ankle, he winced in empathy and started to slowly untie and remove the trainer, not wanting to jostle the broken ankle too much. He removed both socks and couldn't help but admire the sweet, feminine toes that peeked up at him, painted in a pretty purpleish color. What worried him was that the feet were starting to turn varying colors, mostly likely from lack of blood flow and the freezing temperatures.

Shaking his head and snapping himself back into focus, Draco moved back up the body, his fingers and hands still gently mapping out all of the injuries, wanting to know everything that was wrong so he could figure out which injuries were the most serious so he could heal those first. As he worked, he realized that his patient was a young woman, no older than himself, but unbelievably reckless to by flying in this weather.

When he reached her face, he tenderly searched the top and back of her head for any major lacerations before slowly moving away some of her curly hair away from her face. At first he didn't recognize her, due to the mud and blood that had dried on her face and all the bruises and bumps that usually weren't there, but when he realized who his patient was, his heart nearly stopped.

Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter, was lying beaten and bruised in the forest right behind Malfoy Manner where the Dark Lord had taken residence.

**Definitions:**

_Bint: British slang for a woman. Basically "one step short of a prostitute"._

_Dozy: British slang for someone who might be "slow to understand things"._

_Biscuits: British term for cookies._

_Trainers: British term for gym shoes._

_Jumper: British term for a sweater._

**AN: So we finally got to meet Draco and learn more about him. Just for the record, I do not support or approve of or condone abusive people and what they do, it's just for the story. I should have another chapter up tomorrow night and a majority of the chapters will start to get longer from here on out. Leave me a review with your thoughts, I love to here what you think. See you tomorrow!**


	4. A Helping Hand

**Untold Lies and Secrets**

**Chapter 4 – A Helping Hand**

Remus was about to tear his hair out. Almost two days had passed and they still hadn't heard anything about his daughter's whereabouts. He had no idea if she was even alive. His pup was somewhere out there, alone, and it was all his fault. If something had happened to her… he would never forgive himself.

If only he had done things differently. If only he had told her in her Third Year. If only he could be a better man.

**-x-x-x-x-**

Tonks watched Remus from afar as he continued to stare at the fire. He had hardly moved a muscle since she first placed him in that chair a day and a half ago. Remus refused to eat and rarely talked. He was, at least, taking his Wolfsbane potion daily. In fact, the only way she could tell that he was even aware of what was going on around him was because every time one of the Order members came back to Headquarters, he would sit up a little straighter in the chair and his eyes would momentarily flicker over to them to see if they had any news regarding Hermione. Once he saw their solemn and apologetic expressions, though, he slowly sunk back down in the seat and resumed watching the undying flames.

She was worried for her fiancé.

He couldn't keep doing this to himself, especially with the full moon approaching on swift wings. Just from looking at him she could tell he was suffering. His cheeks were starting to sink in slightly and his complexion was deathly pale. His eyes were dull and lifeless, his mouth set in a grim line. She couldn't stand seeing him like this. Tonks understood that Remus was having a tough time right now. That he was hurting, but he would do his daughter no good by just sitting there, doing nothing.

Tonks had to do something to get him to snap out of his funk, but she had no idea what to do.

Looking out the window at the nearly full moon, a plan started to form in her mind. Tonks had realized ever since they had started seeing each other that Remus tended to get more possessive, more primal the fuller the moon was. He craved physicality in a way she had never before seen. Remus almost seemed to be in physical pain when he wasn't touching her or, at the very least, near her.

So as the full moon started to loom in the near future, Tonks would pack up a bag and move in with Remus for a couple of day until the worst of the phase was over. He tried to protest, at first, worried for her safety and afraid of what would happen if she was too close to him when the full moon forced him to phase. Tonks had been relentless, though, determined not to leave his side during this difficult time of the month. Tonks knew Remus would never admit it, but she knew that her presence made it easier for him.

Tonks had done some research on werewolves and she had found8 that while they didn't mate for life, werewolves did hold more permanent significant others in high esteem and werewolves, instinctually, would very rarely cause them any harm. The books she had found said that mates were able to sooth some of the more primal urges a werewolf experienced and, in some rare cases, could even have the same effects as the Wolfsbane potion.

Tonks had showed Remus the various sources she found that proved these facts, trying to get him to realize that there were other options for him. She knew that he hated taking the Wolfsbane potion and that he had to rely on others to help him make it. She wanted to help him, but he refused, saying that the risk was too great and that he didn't trust himself not to hurt her. Tonks had relented, for the time, not wanting to upset him further.

One of the books had another theory, one not proven like the others, but supposedly an effective one nonetheless. To put it bluntly, the author thought that shagging "worked wonders" for werewolves. The primal, carnal nature of the act so like the nature of the werewolf, that it helped ease them into a more relaxed state. But it couldn't just be any random lay that would work, once again, it had to be with a "special someone" as the author had stated.

Tonks kept this theory from Remus, knowing that it's lack of evidence to prove it would make him weary and he would start to pull away from her physically and emotionally.

But now, she planned to use it to her advantage.

**-x-x-x-x-**

Remus heard Tonks's approach from behind him; he knew that she had been standing against the wall watching him for quite some time now. He knew she was worried about him, but he couldn't bring himself to stop the overwhelming fear that ate at his heart and soul.

Tonks didn't say anything to him, she just stood behind his chair and looped her arms around his neck, leaning forward to breathe onto his ear, something she knew drove him crazy. He pulled his head away from her mouth, effectively ending her teasing. But she didn't give up very easily. It was usually one of the things he loved about her, but now it was quite bothersome when she was using it against him.

Tonks unhooked her hands from around his neck and brought them up to his right shoulder and pulled away the collar of his robes. She placed open-mouthed kisses on his shoulder, using her tongue to trace various shapes on his delectable skin. Remus held in a groan. She knew exactly how to drive him crazy.

Remus froze beneath her, unable to hide the effects of her ministrations on his body. He tried to pull away again, but she was relentless, following his movements. Letting go of his robes, Tonks moved her kisses towards the front of his throat while she started weaving her fingers through his hair. Just as she knew he would, Remus tried to retreat again. But this time, to counter his move, Tonks fisted her fingers in his hair and forced him to stay still as she continued her assault.

"Stop," she murmured against his skin, pulling on his hair slightly to enforce her point. Remus froze and leaned into her mouth slightly, letting a low groan slip past his lips. Remus lifted his hand and placed it over Tonks's free hand, squeezing it before he pulled on it gently.

Understanding what he wanted, Tonks moved around the chair and sat on his lap, facing him. She loosened her hold on his hair and cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer to her. Remus wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her roughly into him and slammed his mouth onto her in a punishing kiss.

"You're playing with fire," he growled against her lips.

Tonks shifted her hips enticingly against his hardening erection. "Then I guess it's a good thing I don't mind getting burned." Remus surged to his feet, his arms holding her up as her legs wrapped around his waist. "Take me, Remus. I need you inside me. I want to feel your hard cock pulsing in my warm pussy. I want you to make my pussy weep. Make me yours."

Tonks reattached her mouth on him, this time nibbling on his ear, as Remus carried her into their room on the third floor.

Remus forced open the door and kicked it shut behind him. "Can't wait. Need you now," Remus ground out. Tonks nodded in agreement and grabbed her wand with the hand that wasn't entwined in Remus's hair. Remus roughly set Tonks down and quickly removed her robes from her body, taking no time to marvel in her gloriously naked body before he removed his own.

Placing his hands on her arse-cheeks, Remus picked her up again, not even checking to see if she was wet enough before he forcefully thrust into her pussy. "Oh, Merlin! Yes, Remus, yes!" Tonks loved this side of her Remus, but very rarely did she get to see it. Remus was overprotective of her and he was usually gentler during their lovemaking.

Time and time again, Remus plunged his cock in his mate. He was close, he could feel the tingling crawling up his back. Remus buried his face in her succulent shoulder and bit her, hard, as she clenched her inner muscles and sent them both over the edge.

Remus walked over to their unmade bed, pulling out slowly before he placed her on her side of the bed. Remus was about to leave her again, she could feel it, so before he got too far away, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him next to her on the bed.

"I need you with me, Remus. Please." Tonks looked up at him, pleading with her eyes. Without saying a word, he crawled into the bed beside her and pulled her close to him. "Don't think, Remus. It was beautiful and what we both wanted. What we needed," she said, correctly interpreting his silence as guilt and regret.

Remus remained silent and buried his face in her hair, silent tears running down his cheeks. Tonks turned around in his arms so she was facing him. He tried to hide it, but she could see his tears. "We'll find her, Remus. I promise," she whispered as she cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look her in the eye. After a minute, she pulled him closer to her again, placing his head on her bosom and kissing his hair, running her hands over his back soothingly until he fell into a fitful sleep.

**-x-x-x-x-**

Draco looked around the space he occupied with Granger, trying to find some a special herb and root that would stop the blood flow of Granger's many injuries. When he couldn't find any in the immediate vicinity, he knew he had to get her out of the forest to a cleaner and better lit place, preferably far, far away from Malfoy Manner.

Knowing it would be risky with Granger's condition, but that he didn't have much choice, Draco placed his hand on Granger's uninjured shoulder and quickly prepared for Apparition to a flat he had purchased without his father's knowledge in Muggle London.

**-x-x-x-x-**

Draco and Granger landed in the parlor of his flat, knowing that they were well-protected with all the enchantments and charms he had placed around the building when he had first made his purchase, not wanting his father to be able to follow him or find his safe haven without his knowledge. Only Pansy and his mother knew about his flat, and that was how he wanted to keep it.

One of the charms he had placed on the flat recognized his mother, Pansy, and him, and allowed them entrance automatically, and warned him if someone else tried to enter. The charm was extremely strong, but his father could break it, if he tried.

Draco performed a quick _Tergeo _spell to clean off all of the blood and mud covering Granger before completing a fast sequence of numerous other spells to set and heal her various minor injuries.

Content that she wouldn't die on him, Draco felt comfortable retreating to his stores to grab a cloth, small bowl, and herb salves and potions that would help Granger make a speedy recovery. Returning to her side, Draco started working on fixing her broken ankle. He winced in sympathy, knowing that this was going to be a painful process, even with pain relieving potions.

After setting the break carefully, he moved on to her shoulder and wrist, looking dubiously at the white jumper that left very little to his imagination. He could see the lacy, light pink bra covering her supple breasts and the tips of her darker nipples… Draco shook his head, forcing those thoughts from his mind. He needed to focus on helping Granger, not undressing her with his eyes.

Draco _Evanesco_'ed her clothes, leaving only her undergarments in place. Draco forced himself to pay attention her shoulder and fixing the cartilage that was torn there and the sprain in her wrist using _Episkey_.

After a cursory look over, to make sure he hadn't missed anything, Draco left Granger's side again to grab a quilt to cover her with. Her toes and were no longer blue and purple and aside from a couple of bruises and healing scabs, she didn't look too bad considering how he had found her.

Draco wrapped the blanket around her and gently picked her up and placed her on the couch, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. He knelt by her side for a moment, wondering how Granger had gotten herself into such a situation. Unconsciously, he moved her hair out of her face and traced a finger down her cheek, loving the feel of the soft skin.

Leaving Granger's side, Draco stood and started cleaned up his mess, leaving out the pain-relieving potion and sleeping draught. Granger wouldn't be awake for some time, but he wanted to be prepared for when she did come to.

When his task was finished, Draco wasn't quite sure what to do with himself, but he knew he needed to contact his mother for help. He had healed, and probably saved Hermione Granger's life, but he had no idea what to do next.

Draco reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out a miniature handmade picture fame. The portrait of his mother smiled up and waved.

"Tell mother I need her help. I'm at the flat." Realizing the gravity of the situation from Draco's tone, portrait Narcissa quickly left, leaving the frame empty.

Three years ago, when things started going from bad to worse and the Dark Lord resurfaced, Lucius became even more controlling over Draco and Narcissa and he made sure to view all letters that came to, and left, Malfoy Manner, not allowing Draco to talk freely with his mother without Lucius getting suspicious or angry.

So Draco had come up with the idea of using portraits. He had had a wizard painter do a portrait of him and his mother and had two, identical, custom frames made for the painting, allowing portrait Draco and Narcissa to move between the two frames and convey messages to each other and talk without fear of Lucius finding out. Typically, portrait Narcissa stayed in Draco's frame and portrait Draco stayed with Narcissa. A quick _Reducio_ on both frames allowed Draco and Narcissa to carry the frames with them wherever they went.

"I'm on my way, son," Draco heard portrait Narcissa reply. Draco smiled his thanks and went to check on Hermione again. Only a few minutes later, Draco heard a pop, announcing Narcissa's appearance.

"Draco!" she called out, worry filling her voice. "Draco where-" Narcissa broke off when she saw her son standing next to an unconscious Hermione Granger. "Oh, dear." Narcissa hurried forward, her maternal instincts kicking in as she quickly checked Hermione over and then looked to her son.

"What happened?" she whispered, looking up at her son.

"I was walking in the forest and I found her lying unconscious, severely injured. I brought her here and healed her, but I didn't know what to do next. So I called for you."

Narcissa nodded her understanding. "I'm proud of you, son. You did good." Narcissa placed a kiss on his cheek and moved to Granger's side, running a hand gently over her hair.

Narcissa pulled out her wand and summoned her Patronus, a dove, gave it a quick message for the first adult it found in the Order's headquarters, and sent it off on its way.

**AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next chapter will be up sometime on Saturday and from then on, I will stick to the updating schedule that can be found on my profile. Leave me a note to tell what you think!**

**Spells, Potions, and Definitions:**

_Tergeo: _A cleaning spell specializing in removing blood and other liquids from the target.

_Evaneso:_ The Vanishing Spell. Used to make objects vanish.

_Episkey: _A healing spell that heals minor injuries.

_Reducio:_ The Shrinking Charm. Makes a previously large object smaller.

Wolfsbane potion: An extremely complex potion taken by werewolves during the full moon to help them keep calmer during their transformations. The potions does not cure lycanthropy or prevent the change at the full moon.

Shagging/lay: British slang for sex.

Arse: British slang for ass.


	5. What Once was Lost, Now is Found

**Untold Lies and Secretes**

**Chapter 5 – What Once was Lost, Now is Found**

Tonks, who was a morning person, woke before Remus, who slept like the dead on a good day, and was still out like a light. Tonks suspected that he would sleep for a while longer because he hadn't slept in almost two days and the looming full moon took a lot out of him.

As she climbed out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Remus's sleeping form, Tonks winced at the slight soreness between her thighs, but smiled as memories of last night came flashing back to the forefront of her mind. Looking back at her soon-to-be husband, Tonks, even though she wasn't an overtly emotional person, couldn't help the swell of emotion that filled her. Moving to his side of the bed, Tonks placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

Leaving his side, Tonks quickly donned her robes and headed out to the corridor and down the stairs. The flat was quiet, most of the other Order members and their families having gone to take their families to the Hogwarts Express.

Harry and Ron had questioned Hermione's absence, not knowing anything about the situation, so Dumbledore had told them that she was having familial issues – which wasn't a complete lie – and that she would be coming to Hogwarts at a later date. Tonks could tell that they knew they weren't getting the entire truth, but they weren't foolish enough to question Dumbledore, so they quietly relented.

She was in the kitchen preparing a cuppa tea and reveling over the fact that on her way downstairs she hadn't knocked or tripped over anything, when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Remus having taught her never to question her gut feeling, Tonks put her tea down and reached in her robes for her wand, cursing when she realized she had left it in the bedroom with Remus.

Tonks looked around and wondered what she had sensed. No one could have gotten past Dumbledore's wards without them realizing it, and…

Suddenly, a wisp of bright, white light floated into the room through the walls and quickly took the form of a dove. A patronus, Tonks realized, but not one that she recognized.

"I have news regarding Miss Hermione Granger." Tonks automatically recognized the voice of Narcissa Malfoy and her guard went up, wondering if this was a hoax of some sort. "She is safe and her injuries are healed. Currently, she is unconscious and restoring her energy. My son and I are watching over her in a flat in Muggle London. While her condition is greatly improved, I would be leery to try transporting her as of right now." Tonks quickly memorized the address the dove relayed and the warning of all the enchantments protecting it.

When the dove disappeared, Tonks's first instinct was to go up and wake Remus to tell him the news, but if he knew who had Hermione, he would explode and think impulsively and irrationally, risking too many lives. So as much as it pained her, Tonks knew she had to keep Remus out of the loop until she shared the news with Dumbledore.

Tonks hated pulling Dumbledore away from Hogwarts, especially since the year just started, but she knew this was an emergency, so she didn't hesitate to go to the hearth and Floo his office.

"Tonks, to what do I owe the pleasure," Dumbledore inquired, answering her call promptly.

"Please come quickly, Albus. I have news about Hermione."

"Of course, my dear. I shall be there in two shakes."

True to his word, Dumbledore appeared promptly, his robes billowing behind him. Tonks quickly relayed everything the dove had said and her worries about the Malfoys.

"I promise you, Tonks, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy are not our enemies, merely innocent bystanders caught in the middle. And I would remind you that only one pure a heart can conjure a patronus. Hermione is safe and in good hands with Narcissa and Draco."

"My daughter is where?!" Remus thundered, striding into the kitchen, his robes as disheveled as the man.

"She is with Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, currently. Although I suggest she not stay there much longer. Her and Draco's absences were noted both on the Hogwarts Express and at the feast. It would not be wise for them to not be at school for various reasons."

"How can you be so bloody calm about this, Albus? My daughter's life is in the hands of the Malfoys for Merlin's sake. The bloody Pure Blood supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I trust them just about as much as I trust myself during the full moon. We have to get her out of there! Who knows what they've done to her by now." Remus paced back and forth, his hands fisting and drawing blood from his palms.

"That's quite enough now, Remus," Albus warned gently. "I must ask you to calm down and I'm going to say the same thing to you that I told Tonks and I expect you to heed my words. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy can be trusted and are in no way our enemies. One cannot conjure a patronus without a pure heart and soul, and one cannot fake a patronus either. I have seen Narcissa's patronus numerous times. It's quite a beautiful animal, and very characteristic of her, if I do say so myself.

"I can understand you are anxious to see your daughter again. However, I will not tolerate any rudeness towards Narcissa and Draco when we go to their location. Do you understand?" Remus glared at Dumbledore, clearly upset about the circumstances, but he could do nothing but agree to the older man's terms. "Splendid. I believe Side-along Apparition would be a wise choice in this case. And what perfect timing, too, for I find myself in need of talking to dear Narcissa. The wonders of the world…If you would, please, Tonks." Dumbledore placed his hand gently on her shoulder and waited for Remus to do the same on her other side before Tonks took them to their destination, the familiar pull of their navels a tell-tale sign.

**-x-x-x-x-**

Hermione looked doubtfully at the cup of tea Malfoy presented to her. "Oh Merlin's beard, Granger. I didn't poison it!" Draco snapped. "If I had wanted to kill you I would have had plenty of chances to do so already."

"Draco," Mrs. Malfoy scolded. "Be nice. In the past we have given Miss Granger plenty of reasons to mistrust us. I highly doubt she'll start trusting us on the drop of a wand." Mrs. Malfoy walked past Draco and plucked the cup of tea from her son's hands and sat on the edge of the couch next to Hermione, ignoring Draco as he stomped out of the room. "I promise you, dear, my Draco did not poison this. It is merely one of his herbal remedies to help injuries such as your own."

Hermione looked at the cup and its contents once more before she reached out and accepted the tea, taking a tentative sip. The warm liquid felt good running down her throat and she took another sip, the soothing chamomile working wonders. "There now, I can already see it helping. You are feeling better, I presume. No more migraines?" Narcissa placed her hand on Hermione's forehead and smoothed back her hair.

"Yes, I'm feeling much better. Thank you Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa smiled and resituated the blanket around Hermione. "Oh please, call me Cissa. My Draco will be a wonderful Medi-wizard someday. It's what he's always wanted to do, you know. Ever since he was a little boy." Narcissa smiled wistfully, lost in her memories. "I must apologize for his attitude, though. He's quite mad at me at the moment and I'm sorry to say he's talking it out on you. Once he comes around he'll apologize, though."

Hermione started at Mrs. Malfoy in amazement. The Malfoys had always seemed so cold and snooty. But Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, Pure Bloods, were nursing Hermione Granger, the Mudblood, back to health. Something strange was definitely going on.

"Oh, and before I forget. I sent a message to the Order about your whereabouts and health. They should be here soon to bring you home, back to your family."

Hermione stiffened and tears started forming in her eyes. "I don't even know who my family is anymore," Hermione whispered and looked down at her tea, as if it would hold the answers to all her questions. Narcissa pried the cup out of Hermione's shaking hands and pulled her into a hug, careful of her still healing shoulder.

"There, there, dear. I'm sure everything will work itself out. There's no need to get yourself worked up into a tizzy. Everything will turn out for the better, just you wait and see." Hermione's reply was cut off by Draco striding into the room, his wand brandished and pointed at the door. Draco moved so he was standing in front of the couch where his mother and Hermione were seated, protecting them from whatever put his guard up.

"Draco?" Narcissa questioned, a slight hint of worry coloring her voice.

"Someone's coming. Quiet." Hermione's brow furrowed, but she instinctually huddled closer to Narcissa.

A knock sounded on the flat's front door and Draco's posture stiffened even more. "Narcissa, dear. It is I, Albus Percival Wulfrick Brian Dumbledore and two of my companions. Remus John Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Your patronus is a dove and your favorite candy is Lemon Drops, which I gave to you last Christmastime." Hermione was practically clinging to Narcissa now, not wanting to see Lupin at all.

"Draco," Narcissa murmured. "It's okay. You can let them in." Draco looked to his mother incredulously, his grey eyes stormy with mistrust, but he obeyed his mother and went to open the door, refusing to lower his wand.

As Draco slowly opened the door, Albus Dumbledore's withered face appeared, smiling slightly. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Your enchantments are very powerful. Enough to keep _them_ out for a while, at least, but not me I'm afraid. Perhaps I'll teach you some charms that should do the trick, though." Draco lowered his wand and nodded in appreciation, moving out of the way so his professor could enter.

"Hermione!" a familiar voice bellowed out. Remus Lupin shoved past Dumbledore and Tonks and entered the flat, his eyes looking around wildly. "Get away from her! Get away from my daughter!" he shouted when he spotted Hermione on the couch next to Narcissa Malfoy.

Narcissa disentangled herself from Hermione, continued to hold the young girl's hand, waved off Draco from intervening, and stood to her full height, making up for the height difference between her and Remus with her confidence. "Watch yourself, Remus Lupin. Whether or not you're her parent, I will not tolerate you frightening her like this. She has been through quite a lot these past couple of days and is still healing. The poor girl is frightened out of her skin and you'd do best to remember that she is a teenage girl with feelings."

Albus watched from the sidelines as the situation played out, watching Tonks run to Remus's side, whispering in his ear and holding onto his arm to prevent him from doing anything idiotic and Draco clearly trying valiantly to hold onto his control and not curse Remus for advancing on Narcissa.

Remus's eyes never left his daughter as Narcissa sat back down on the couch and tried to calm Hermione again. "Here, sweetheart, why don't you drink so more of your tea and settle back down. It's not good for your healing if you're moving around a lot. There you go, comfortable?" Narcissa asked, tucked the quilt back around her body.

"Draco," his mother called out. "Perhaps you'd be willing to share with Remus and Tonks how you found Hermione while you check how's she's healing and I'll talk with Professor Dumbledore for a moment in the other room." Draco nodded and moved towards Hermione's side, watching Remus out of the corner of his eye. Tonks led Remus over to a high-backed armchair and sat him down. She sat on the settee next to him and kept their hands connected on the arm rest.

Narcissa stood up and let go of Hermione's hand with a promise to return quickly before she left to go talk with Dumbledore in the next room as Draco moved closer to her, looked over her injuries, and began his story. Draco could tell Lupin was upset that he was touching Hermione and that the werewolf didn't trust him, so he did his best to ignore him as he worked.

**-x-x-x-x-**

"I trust you are well, dear Cissa," Dumbledore questioned, reaching into his inside robe pocket and pulling out a small case of lemon drops and offering one to his companion.

"As well as can be expected, Albus. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named grows stronger, and Lucius more controlling. I fear for Draco. He knows how Lucius can get and I worry what would happen if Draco would ever interfere." Narcissa looked up at the elder wizard, tears in her eyes. "I can't live without my son, Albus. I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

"My offer still stands, Cissa. I am more than willing to help you and Draco. Let me help you get to a safer place. Where you don't always have to look over your shoulder."

Narcissa shook her head resolutely. "I can't. Not yet, at least. If we leave now, Lucius will never stop until he kills both of us. And I can still give you valuable information…"

"Narcissa," Dumbledore interrupted. "You're safety if far more important to me than information. I have other resources and means of finding out what Voldemort is up to."

Cissa shook her head again. "I thank you again, Albus, but I can't right now. Sometime soon, maybe. But not right now. Although, I do have one request to make of you."

"Anything, my dear."

"Watch over Draco. I need him to be safe and I find myself constantly worrying over him."

"Of course, Cissa. Although I suspect that this year will bring great changes in young Draco's life." Dumbledore smiled knowingly and led her back into the sitting room with the others.

**-x-x-x-x-**

As Dumbledore and Narcissa reentered the sitting room, Draco was just finished explaining what had happened to Remus and Tonks and was finished checking Hermione, declaring her almost 100%.

"You'll most likely experience stiffness and soreness for the next two to three days. I have a salve I can give you that should help, though." Hermione nodded and smiled shyly.

"I'd like that, thank you. And thank you for taking such good care of me."

"Well now that that's settled, we should be going, Hermione." Hermione's cold eyes drifted towards him for the first time.

"I won't go anywhere with you, you lying bastard!" she hissed out. Draco raised an eyebrow in his mother's direction, clearly wondering what was going on. "Professor," Hermione turned to look at Dumbledore. "Would it be possible for me to go straight to Hogwarts? I don't want to get too far behind in my classes." Remus knew that it was just an excuse she was using because she didn't want to be around him.

"I suppose that would be acceptable, however I think penning a letter to the Grangers to let them know you are well wouldn't be remiss. And in the future I request you don't use such language in my presence, it gives me indigestion." Hermione's jaw tightened, but she nodded anyway. "Draco, you are more than welcome to join us if you wish or you may come in a day or two. Whichever you prefer." Draco looked to his mother.

"I'll come with you." Narcissa smiled and motioned Draco over, pulling him into her arms.

"You're trunk is all packed?" Draco nodded against her shoulder. "Good boy. I'll send it as soon as I get back, and I'll throw in some Pumpkin Pasties." Draco smirked and placed a kiss on his mother's cheek.

"Stay safe, mother."

"You as well, my son." Draco pulled away from Narcissa and he walked back to Dumbledore.

"I'll make sure you have you trunk by tonight, as well, Hermione," Tonks said. Hermione nodded and let her eyes drift over Remus to settle Tonks.

"Thanks," she whispered almost inaudibly. Tonks smiled and squeezed Remus's shoulder to prevent him from rising and going over to her. Draco held Dumbledore's forearm and Hermione grabbed onto Draco's hand, much to everyone's surprise. This time Tonks couldn't prevent Remus from rising and moving towards his daughter's side, but it was too late, Dumbledore had already left, pulling Draco and Hermione with him.


	6. Burnt Out Fire

**Untold Lies and Secrets**

**Chapter 6 – Burnt Out Fire**

Dumbledore gracefully landed on his feet in his office and smiled in amusement when Draco and Hermione landed much less gracefully and had to grab onto each other to find their balance. As soon as they had found their equilibriums again, Dumbledore quickly cut to the chase.

"I would like to congratulate the both of you, again, for making the Head Boy and Girl positions this year. As stated in your letter, you will receive your own living quarters on the west side of the fourth floor corridor and at present the password is 'Sincerely Hogwash', however, that may be changed with the consent of both parties and informing the portrait of the change. Each of your dorms also has a password portrait for increased privacy and you are able to set your desired password upon entering your dorm. I believe you will find the accommodations acceptable, however feel free to come to me with any issues.

"Since you were not able to be on the Hogwarts Express and therefore did not get to introduce yourself to your prefects, I suggest you call a meeting in the not-too-distant future to set up patrolling schedules and future meetings and responsibilities. I will, of course, be delegating other various responsibilities to you throughout the year as incidents occur. I believe you are also aware that you are given the right, as Heads, to grant and take away House Points and, within reason, hand out Detentions.

"Your belongings should arrive promptly, and I will have them sent straight to your dorms and your class schedules are also in your dorms, in the common room, if I'm not mistaken.

"I really detest being crass, however I find myself in need of privacy to deal with some issues that have arisen, so if you'll please show yourself out." Dumbledore didn't wait for an answer and moved behind his desk to sit in his grand chair and immediately picked up a quill.

Hermione didn't wait another minute before she stormed out of the office, her arms wrapped protectively around her waist and her head down.

**-x-x-x-x-**

On her way to her new dorms, Hermione kept her head down and ignored the others in the corridors, which wasn't saying much seeing as most of the other students were in classes.

When she came upon the portrait, she didn't stop for pleasantries, whispering the password and scurrying inside. She spent no time looking at the accommodations in the living area before hurrying up the stairs off to the right and, ignoring this portrait as well, opened and closed the door forcefully before falling onto the bed and curling into herself for a warmth that she knew she wouldn't find, tears falling down her cheeks.

**-x-x-x-x-**

It was three o'clock in the morning. Wednesday, if her calculations were correct, but there was a high probability that they weren't since she hadn't gotten any sleep. She'd barely eaten, hadn't gone to any of her classes, and remained in the denims and jumper she had arrived in.

When she wasn't trying to sleep, and failing miserably, she was most likely crying her eyes out or staring blankly at a ceiling or wall. Her eyes were puffy, red, and extremely sore. Sore to the point where it practically hurt to cry anymore.

Currently, Hermione was sitting in the common room, clutching a journal in her lap like it was the only thing keeping her alive and staring into the embers of a fire despite the fact that it hurt her eyes to do so. At this point, the pain was welcome. Because despite how masochistic it was, it meant that she wasn't the unfeeling bitch she had been acting like the past few days to everyone she loved. She had no idea how to act, though. Everything she had previously believed turned out to be a lie. Her parents weren't really her parents and her heritage wasn't what she had always known it to be.

She was lost.

_Confused._

And with no way out.

**-x-x-x-x-**

Draco stepped into the common room silently, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting of the ever present fire.

"Granger?" he questioned. He hadn't seen hair or hide of her for three days now. He hadn't seen her at any of the meals or classes or even in passing in the common room or corridors.

"Granger," he repeated when she didn't answer. Draco walked over to the couch, his eyes widening in surprise. While the lighting wasn't enough to fully see Granger's face, the flickering flames illuminated her face enough for Draco to see that she hadn't slept in days and had spent most of her time crying. She looked pale and frighteningly devoid of life and emotion.

"I haven't seen you in any classes or meals," he said conversationally, slowly walking towards her. He hadn't a clue what he was doing, he just... _did. _"From what I've heard, Potter and Weasley have been asking around about you a lot, trying to figure out where you are. I guess friends get worried like that." Draco sat next to Hermione on the couch, but she still didn't acknowledge him. He let the silence continue for a while, wondering if she would open up in her own time.

Fifteen minutes passed.

_Silence._

Forty-five.

_Silence._

An hour and a half.

_Silence._

Three minutes till two hours.

_Silence._

"Hermione," he coaxed her softly. Finally, he caught her attention. Her head slowly turned and her eyes met his. Unannounced, Hermione threw herself at him and whatever she had been clutching fiercely was thrown to some unknown place in the room. Her sobs were racking her body, sending her into a fit.

"Hush, now. You're alright. Shhhh…" Draco pulled Hermione onto his lap and cushioned her head against his shoulder, unable to not notice how it felt. He wasn't unaware of how to comfort a deeply upset witch, having comforted Pansy multiple times, but this felt…different.

Ignoring his absurd thoughts, Draco focused his task back on calming Granger down again. He gently rocked back and forth and rubbed one hand up and down her back and the other on her shin, murmuring young wizard stories in her ear.

Forty-two minutes passed and her sobs had turned into the occasional hiccup.

Another twenty-seven minutes passed and even those ceased.

After a grand total of three days, five hours, and thirty-seven minutes, Hermione Granger slept.

**AN: So this one's a little shorter, but it's an update none-the-less. Hope you enjoyed! Leave me a review to tell me what you think. If you didn't know, the new update schedule for this story is (hopefully) going to be every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. Although I'm not sure if I'll get another chapter out this Thursday, but I will try my best.**


	7. Hiding from Life

**Untold Lies and Secrets**

**Chapter 7 – Hiding from Life**

While Hermione slept in Draco's arms for almost the full day, he barely got any sleep. Draco was too preoccupied sorting through his thoughts and emotions, wondering why he had reacted the way he had when he first pulled her into his arms.

Draco had shared his first kiss with a girl in his First Year.

In the beginning of his Third Year he had lost his virginity.

By his Fourth Year he had slept with almost all the girls in his year, and a handful of other girls that were both older and younger than him.

Halfway through his Fifth Year he had gotten bored with sleeping around with one girl at a time and he'd started getting more adventuresome, having threesomes and exploring the darker, more dominant side of sex.

Needless to say, he'd been around the block a couple of times, and nothing had made him feel the way he felt holding a sick and sleep-deprived girl.

He felt… warm. Like when he touched and held her, little bursts of heat were moving through their bodies at rapid speeds and making his insides tingle. He felt… secure. Like no matter what he did he wouldn't get judged. He felt… full. Like he hadn't truly been living before.

But Draco knew he had to push those thoughts out of his head. He couldn't be thinking like that. He knew that if Hermione was conscious, she'd probably have a fit at knowing that he was holding her so intimately. And not only that, but a girl like Hermione Granger would never stoop to his level. She was above him in every sense of the word.

She had better morals. She was a better friend. A better child. She was a better student. She was a better person. She was a better leader. She was a better spell caster. She was more studious. She was more thoughtful and considerate. She was better at not procrastinating. She was better…

He could go on for ages.

Hermione Jean Granger was simply… _better._

Draco Lucius Malfoy was merely the son of a Death Eater.

Scum.

Trash.

Worthless.

All he had was his money and blood line, and where would that get him? In the good graces of a murderer, Lord Voldemort?

Draco, feeling sick with himself, gently lifted Hermione off of him and laid her gently on the sofa, pulling a blanket over her and making sure she was covered fully. On his way back to his dorm, Draco saw a journal and stray piece of parchment lying on the floor. Picking them up, he thumbed through a couple pages of the journal, recognizing Hermione's handwriting and the fact that it was a diary.

Draco quickly slipped the stray piece of parchment into the journal and placed it on the arm of the sofa before going to his room.

**-x-x-x-x-**

Hermione woke to the smell of eggs, bacon, and toast wafting over to her. She sat up quickly, her stomach aching for food. She immediately regretted her decision, however, when he vision started to swim and her head pulsed with pain. Hermione slowly laid back down again, clutching her head in her hands and squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

After she got her bearings again, Hermione sat up and looked at the coffee table in front of her. Immediately in front of her on the table was the delicious smelling food that had woken her up. Off to the left, a safe distance away from any possible spills was a large stack of parchment and some books. On top of that was a hand written note:

_Granger,_

_ I didn't want to wake you up – you needed your sleep. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of talking to your professors and getting all the work that you've missed during your days of absence. The stack is categorized by subject and then sorted by priority._

_ Potter and Weasley are asking about you, rather obnoxiously, if I might add. A fair bit of mail has arrived for you; it's sitting on the window bench._

_ Your salve in by your school work. Gently massage it into the affected area and shortly after, you should be feeling better._

_ Sincerely,_

_ D.M._

_P.S._

_Eat._

Hermione glared at the first word on the letter, unable to comprehend the rest of the letter because of the contempt that boiled in her stomach. She angrily crumpled and ripped the paper into tiny bits and pieces before throwing them into the fire, feeling some satisfaction as she watched the parchment burn.

**-x-x-x-x-**

In the weeks that followed, Draco never saw hair or hide of Hermione. While they were talking some of the same courses, they had them at different times. He never saw her in what he had come to recognize as her usual corner in the Library. He never saw her during meals. He never saw her walking through the corridors. He never saw her entering or leaving their dorms, but after asking the Portrait – a beautiful painting of a young child staring wistfully up at the full moon – he got his answer.

According to the child in the portrait, she hadn't entered their quarters in sometime. The last time the child, a little girl, had seen her, in fact, was the morning he left her the note.

Hermione Granger was avoiding him.

Sure, she had taken care of all the Head responsibilities, making a patrol schedule and setting up a first meeting, but she hadn't told him about either and, after he had seen the schedule, he realized that she had purposely scheduled the patrols so she was never working with him.

_Well, _he thought, _that was all going to change tonight._

Luckily, Blaise – one of the Slytherin Prefects – had asked him if they could trade shifts because he had received a large amount of homework that day that was due the next day. Draco readily agreed and told Blaise that he was more than willing to cover for him that night.

Draco remained hidden behind a statue in the shadows in front of the Library, the designated meeting point. He knew that if Hermione saw him first, she would run away, giving him some excuse of having forgot about something more important and his shot at getting her to talk to him would be ruined. There was a chance that even if he surprised her, she was still going to make an escape.

She arrived shortly after the scheduled time, and Draco took an assessing look at her for the first time in weeks. She had dark circles under her eyes, which were dull and devoid of the life and happiness that was usually always present and that he had secretly envied since the first day he saw her. Her long, usually beautiful, hair hung listless down her back in disarray. Her robes were wrinkled and in need of a good steaming. She was moving stiffly, which shouldn't have been the case, but since she didn't properly take care of herself after she sustained her injuries, it was taking her a lot longer to heal and she was still in a fair bit of pain from the looks of it. But what worried him most of all was the sunkeness to her cheeks.

For the third time in less than a minute, Hermione checked her wristwatch, her fingers twitching ever so slightly.

Deciding it was time to unveil himself, Draco stepped out from the shadows after she turned around and waited with his hands in his pockets until she noticed him.

It didn't take her long.

One minute she was facing the Library doors and the next, she turned around in a huff. Her eyes widened when she saw him and she slowly backed away from him.

"Evening, Granger," he said carelessly.

"Don't call me that," she hissed.

"Very well. What should I call you, then?"

Silence.

"Hermione," was the whispered reply minutes later.

Draco nodded his head in understanding. "Evening, Hermione." Draco moved farther out of the shadows.

"Where's Blaise? He was supposed to be patrolling with me."

"Ah, yes. Mr. Zambini found himself indisposed tonight and asked me if I'd be willing to cover his shift. Since his reasons were for school-work, I readily agreed."

"I see."

"It actually worked out perfectly, seeing as I was going to ask Blaise if he would be willing to switch with me anyway. You see, Hermione, I have come to the realization that you've been avoiding me." Hermione's eyes widened and Draco nodded as if he couldn't believe it either as he continued advancing towards her. "Yes, I thought it was rather odd as well. But you've not returned to our dorms – which brings up the question of where you've been sleeping – and you've not been seen by anyone at any of the meals, you conveniently scheduled patrols so that we would never be working together, and you planned the first Prefect meeting without notifying me when it was or that you were even planning it at all." As Draco kept moving towards her, Hermione kept moving back until she was against the wall and could go no further.

"So tell me, Hermione. What is the reason you've been avoiding me?" Draco continued to walk forward even though she could no longer retreat. He placed his palms on the stone wall on either side of her face and leaned closer.

Hermione's mouth opened and closed like a fish, but no words came out.

"May I tell you what I think?" Draco continued without waiting for an answer. "I think that you're afraid of something." His eyes narrowed as he continued with his train of thought. "You're afraid and you're trying to run. But you can't. Can you?"

Hermione looked up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes and slowly shook her head.

"That's what I thought," Draco replied. "Come on, Hermione. You haven't done a very good job of taking care of yourself and I believe it's long past the time for someone to give you a shove in the right direction." Draco removed his hands form the wall and backed away from her slowly, holding out a hand for her to take.

Hermione looked at Draco's outstretched hand doubtfully for a while before she looked up at his face. "Why are you trying to help me?"

"Because everyone needs help during their darkest hour." Draco let her mull that over before he continued. "And since you're insistent on pushing everyone else away, I figure it's high time I do something about it."

"Answer a question for me and I'll come with you," Hermione declared. Draco mentally rolled his eyes, but nodded his consent. "Tell me who helped you. During your darkest hour, I mean."

"No one," he replied coldly. Draco dropped his hand and moved towards her again. Without waiting for her consent, Draco crouched down and placed one hand behind her knees and the other on her back, easily lifting her slight form as he stood up. He pulled her into the warmth of his body, trying to reduce the amount of movement she felt, knowing that it would send her still healing injuries screaming in protest.

"Malfoy!" she cried out in surprise. "Let me down this instant!" When he ignored her and continued walking, she huffed in anger and crossed her arms over her chest, internally wincing when a hot shot of pain started in her still tender shoulder and moved throughout her body. "What about patrols?" she asked, thinking that he would see her logic and realize that he had to put her down so they could resume their responsibilities.

"I don't give a flying fuck about the patrols, Hermione," he said darkly and continued to walk towards their dorms, leaving Hermione silent and lost for words.


	8. Ointment for the Soul

**Untold Lies and Secrets**

**Chapter 8 – Ointment for the Soul**

Draco was glad that they didn't meet anyone in the corridors on their way to their dorms. While he didn't particularly care what others thought, if word got back to his father that he was consorting with "The Mudblood", he would be done for. As it was, Draco wasn't sure he was willing to confront his abnormal feelings regarding Hermione.

Upon entering their dorms, Draco gently set Hermione on the couch, conscious of her injuries. He sat on the coffee table and rested his forearms on his knees. The two were silent for a moment as Hermione stared at her hands and Draco attempted to gather his thoughts and make sense of them.

"Are you afraid of me?" he questioned abruptly. "Because I'm sure I can talk to Dumbledore –"

"No, Draco," she cut him off, placing a hand on his knee to keep it from bouncing. Draco froze, trying to prevent himself from flinching at her foreign touch. It was a nervous habit he had that his father had tried to break him of, and he had the scars to prove it. _Never show others your emotions – they make you weak._ That particular lesson had never sunk in for Draco because he, like his mother, felt with his whole heart and wore his feeling on his sleeves.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but, for whatever reason, I'm not afraid of you, Draco Malfoy. I don't know what it is exactly; we've been at each other's throats for as long as I can remember… I suppose a little of it has to do with how you took care of me in the forest."

"You should be afraid of me!" he shouted, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You have no idea what kinds of things I've done, what I was about to do! You should be petrified that you have to share a dorm with me. I'm not a good person, Hermione. If you even knew a tenth of what I've done, you would never want to be in the same room as me, much less look at me. Your blood would run cold. I'm disgusting, Hermione. Vile, cruel, dangerous!" he ran a frustrated hand through his hair and started pacing.

"And you," he laughed sarcastically. "You are so inherently _good_, that it's not even funny. You should stay far away from me. As far as you can. I attract trouble and danger, Hermione," he abruptly stopped pacing and turned his hard, stormy gaze on her. "I'm the complete opposite of you. I'm the embodiment of everything you stand against."

He started pacing again and Hermione stood when his back was turned and walked behind him, staying as silent as possible. When he turned around, he came face to face with Hermione and he stumbled back, surprised by how close they were. Before he could get too far away from her, Hermione grabbed his hands in her own and held them tightly, willing him to understand that she wasn't afraid of him. That she didn't think he was a bad person.

"I don't believe you, Draco. You _are _a good person. If you weren't then you wouldn't have helped and healed me in the woods. If you are as bad and evil as you say, then you would've left me there to die or brought me to Voldemort. But instead of doing either of those things, you took me someplace safe, only talked with people you trusted, you healed me, and you told my fam – The Order were I was. Those aren't the actions of a bad or evil person, Draco."

"How do you know I'm not trying to trick you? To get you to trust me so I can catch you off guard."

"Because if your true intention was to get me off guard you already had the perfect chance and I would consider you a fool for not hurting me then.

"What will it take to get you to realize that I do trust you with my life? That I don't, and will never, fear you. What will it take?" Draco didn't respond, but continued to look her in the eye, which she took as a good sign. I promise you, Draco, you are not who I'm afraid of," he still seemed unconvinced and Hermione sought a way to try at least placate Draco for the time being, until she got him to realize that she didn't fear him. "Tell you what, Draco. If I'm ever afraid of you, if you ever make me feel uncomfortable, I'll tell you to sod off. Does that sound good, at least for now?"

"I suppose that would be acceptable," he conceded, "but you must tell me immediately when you feel uncomfortable, Hermione. I don't – I don't trust myse-" he broke off quickly and pulled his hands out of hers. He roughly sat on the couch and fisted his hands through his hair again.

Hermione's eyes widened in realization.

_He didn't trust himself._

She walked over to the couch and gently sat down next to him, ignoring his flinch when she placed her hands on his shoulder and forearm. "I trust you, though, Draco. And if you want to be a medi-wizard, you're going to have to realize that you need to trust yourself too.

"Now," she said, standing up, "I'm going to go take a much needed rinse and I'll be out shortly. Perhaps you'd be willing to procure some food for us to munch on?"

Without waiting for a response, Hermione stood up and walked to their shared loo.

Draco stared at the door, taken aback by everything she had said. He still couldn't understand how she could trust someone like him. He was too much like his father. He, like his father, preyed on the less fortunate, the weak.

Draco snapped himself out of his stupor and pulled out his course assignments from the day as he concentrated as getting as much of it done as he could. School had always been an escape for him. Not only did it give him a place where he felt safe, or at least safer than when he stayed at the Manor, but his course work always succeeded in taking his mind off everything else. For the time, at least, he had no worries.

About an hour later, Hermione reemerged from the loo, her face slightly flushed from the heat of her shower with a bath robe pulled tight around her waist. Draco looked up from his Charms essay and gave her a hesitant attempt at a smile, unsure as to how he should proceed, but feeling calmer and less frantic than before.

"C-could, I mean would," Hermione fumbled with her words, something Draco had never seen and found rather amusing. "Wouldyoubewillingtoapplytheointment?" she finally forced out.

Draco raised an eyebrow and just barely held in a chuckle. "Come again?" It was refreshing to see Hermione out of sorts. He was so used to seeing her so bloody put together that it actually unnerved him. No one – no human – could be that perfect. And anyways, perfection was overrated.

Hermione took a deep breath in and stilled her shaking hands, shoving them into the pockets of the robe. "I was wondering, that is, if you would possibly be willing to apply the salve… I-I tried to do it myself, but I can't see or reach and –"

"I'll do it, Hermione."

Hermione looked surprised by his agreement to help. "A-are you sure? Because I can try again by myself. I don't want to be a bothe –"

"Hermione," Draco interrupted her. "I'll rub in the salve for you. It's honestly no trouble at all." Draco set down his course work and motioned her to sit on the floor between his spread legs. Hermione shyly walked towards him and stood awkwardly, fiddling with the string of the robe.

Sensing that she wasn't going to get much farther without a little help, Draco stood and gently took Hermione's hands into his own. Her gasp made him wince regretfully, and he pulled his hands away quickly. "Sorry," he whispered, and quickly rubbed his hands together to get rid of the chill he thought had startled her.

Once satisfied that he wasn't going to abhor her with his cold touch anymore, Draco untied the robe's belt and slowly drew the fabric away from her body.

He drew in a sharp breath as more of her body was revealed. While her pajamas were anything but revealing, they looked far more appealing than the school uniforms he was used to seeing her wear.

She wore a flimsy long sleeved jumper and loose-fitting cotton bottoms. Completely conservative, but still unexpectedly attractive as it let his imagination soar as to what was under her pajamas.

Draco was silent as he set the robe on the couch and sat down again, gently pulling on Hermione's wrist until she walked in front of him. Draco placed his hands on her waist and waited with baited breath for her to hex or curse him.

When none came, Draco slowly pushed down on her hips until she sat in between his legs. Draco held out his hand in front of her and Hermione gently placed the bottle of salve in his palm, their fingers touching

He placed the tube of salve next to him and uncertainly rolled her jumper up until it was bundled up by her neck. Draco rubbed his hands together, trying to chase away the ever present cold that seemed to reside in his body, before he placed some salve onto his fingers and started to gently rub it into what looked to be the worst discolorations and scabs on her body.

They were both silent as Draco worked, letting the simplicity of the action sooth the both of them. When he finished, Draco recapped the salve but kept Hermione's jumper rolled up. "You're probably going to want to sleep on your stomach tonight. The salve should be dry shortly, but you shouldn't take any chances. The longer it can seep into your wounds and the deeper it goes, the quicker you should feel its effects."

Hermione turned around, placing her forearms on his knees. "Thank you, Draco. I really appreciate it." And then, without another word, she stood up and walked towards her rooms.

With her hand around the door knob, she turned back to Draco and said, "oh, and Draco. Your mum's right. You'll make a fabulous medi-wizard one day," before slipping into her room and closing the door quietly behind her.


	9. Secret Places and Friends

**Untold Lies and Secrets**

**Chapter 9 – Secret Places and Friends**

**AN: I want to send a shout out to the most awesome beta in the world, . Don't know what I would do without her.**

Hermione leaned against her closed door, placing a hand over her racing heart. She had no idea what had really happened out there, only that she enjoyed it. A lot.

Hermione Granger had enjoyed getting close to Draco Malfoy. She liked letting him touch her, the feel of his warm, smooth hands roaming over her back, rubbing in the salve… Hermione's legs would have melted, unable to support her, had she been standing. He made her stomach feel gooey inside; warm and gooey.

A good combination, she thought to herself. She smiled, closed her eyes, and replayed the moment in her mind, savoring it. A _very_ good combination, indeed.

She sighed wistfully and felt like she was floating on air as she walked to her bed, lying on her stomach as Draco had recommended, and falling blissfully into sleep, a smile upon her lips.

**-x-x-x-x-**

"How could I have been so _stupid,_" as soon as Hermione had left the living quarters, Draco had returned to his room, muttering and cursing at himself for his foolishness. "Well if she didn't think you were a tosser before, she definitely does now." He walked to the fully length mirror by his chest of drawers as he looked at his reflection in self-disgust.

"I look like _him_," he snarled out the last word in repulsion."Like Dear Old Daddy." Draco picked up the object closest to him, a shoe, and threw it at his reflection. Glass shards flew in all directions, some cutting his arms and face, but most falling to the floor.

He looked at the now cracked mirror once more, at the pieces that had been shattered but hadn't fallen out of place. A long fissure dissected, bisected, trisected, his face. And all of his flaws became even more apparent.

Tears filled his eyes and threatened to overflow, but he quickly pushed them back, not allowing himself to be weak. Not yet, at least. He needed to find her. He needed to find Pansy before he could let that happen.

Storming out of his room and the dorm, he slammed both portraits behind him, uncaring about the noise he was creating. Hermione would just have to learn how to deal with it.

Walking brusquely down the corridors and stairs, Draco made his way to the Dungeons. He shouted out the password to the stuffy looking portrait a full ten feet before he even reached the painting, wanting, no _needing_ it to be open by the time he got there. Draco had managed to keep his tears in check during his trek down to the Dungeons, but he didn't know how much longer it would be until the dam broke. And he refused to let anyone but Pansy see him at his weakest.

In the commons, despite the late hour, many students were still milling about, some playing Wizards' Chess, others just talking and sitting in front of the fire.

Storming up the first, rather unfortunate, girl he saw, Draco snarled in her face spittle flying everywhere, "where is Pansy Parkinson!" The girl, a first year, went wide-eyed at the sight of Slytherine's Prince.

"I-I don't…" Draco scowled, as he turned to find his next unsuspecting victim, his eyes alight with fury. By now the entire populace in the Common Room was watching Draco and word had traveled to those in their bedchambers as more Slytherine's came down to see the "show". Very few people had ever seen Draco lose his temper, and those that had, never wished to see it again.

Just as Draco was about to turn on another girl, Pansy came rushing down the stairs, dressed in her nightgown with toothpaste on her lip. "Draco!" she called out, shoving people out of her way in her goal to reach him. "Sod off!" she shouted to those still milling about, watching.

At the Slytherine's Princess's command, people hurried to leave, not wanting to piss either of them off any more. "Bunch of nosey prats," she whispered to herself, making her way closer and closer to Draco, a sense of dread forming in the pit of her stomach. Very rarely did he get like this. She had seen him get upset, yes, but nothing like this, she could tell that he was only holding on by a thread. She had to get him out of there. And fast.

Hearing his name, Draco's head snapped in the direction where it came from. A bit formed in her stomach when she saw he cut up and bruised face. Her eyes trailed to his arms where she could see blood stains on his jumper.

Draco let himself feel only a slight amount of relief when he saw Pansy hurrying towards him. He turned towards her and as soon as she was within reach, he wrapped a hand around her wrist, pulling her with him as he started out the door.

She didn't question him or even wince as her bare feet met the cold, unforgiving stone floor as he continued to pull her through the corridors, already knowing where they were headed.

Draco didn't let go of her hand the entire time and he was thankful she hadn't tried asking him about it. She knew. Pansy _always_ knew.

Pansy knew Draco. Like _really_ knew him. She knew when to poke and prod and when to leave him alone to mull things by himself. She could tell just by looking at him what his mood was and she knew exactly how to get him out of a funk.

When they reached their destination, and only then, did Draco finally release Pansy's hand as he paced back and forth in front of a wall three times.

As their door appeared, Draco grabbed her hand again and pulled her inside their room. Their space.

Draco had been in awe when he had first found the Room of Requirement and he couldn't help but play around with it a bit. From requesting a place where he could release his more… primal urges with a woman to the Muggle playground his mother had taken him to a couple time when Lucius wasn't home.

When it became unsafe for Draco and Pansy to meet just anywhere, he automatically knew where they would be safe from prying ears and nosey eyes. The Room of Requirement.

The first day the entered their room, it was simple. Draco hadn't requested much at the time, just a comfy couch and a few chairs. Just enough for them to be able to talk and sit comfortably. But as they started frequenting their room more, more items appeared to make it feel homier.

For instance, now there was a fireplace on the west wall to keep out the pervading chill, a king sized bed was the main element in the room – which they sometimes slept in, fully clothed, together . Most people believed that the Slytherine Prince and Princess were in a romantic relationship. They couldn't be more wrong.

Draco and Pansy had never shagged because the simply didn't fancy each other like that.

She was his best mate and he was hers. That was it. People just assumed that they knew and understood more than they really did.

Aside from the fireplace and the bed, Muggle portraits that they both liked hung on the wall – some Munch, de Goya, and Picasso – and candles and small lamps decorated most surfaces, basking the room in a soft glow. A desk sat in the far corner – the best lit of them all – and had a rather extensive bookshelf next to it. A new assortment of couches and sitting chairs were spread out throughout the room, blankets of various sizes and textures were folded neatly on the back of all of them.

It was towards the divan, that sat in front of the fireplace, that Draco, who was barely holding himself together, steered Pansy towards, needing the warmth of the fire to kill off the chill residing deep in his bones.

Just seconds after they sat down, he broke.

Sobs wrecked his body and tears streamed down his face. His knees were pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around his legs. His fists clenched and unclenched, his nails breaking the skin on his wrists. His right foot twitched, slightly and she could hardly tell if he was even breathing.

Pansy sat, stunned for a minute, having never seen him this bad before, before she moved into action, grabbing the blanket from the back of the divan. She pulled him in close to her, wrapping her arms around her body and placing his head underneath his chin, knowing that, until he calmed down a little more, the only thing he needed right now was to be held, tightly to someone else.

"Shhhh," she whispered in his ear. "You're fine, honey. You're fine. You're here, with me. Pansy. Nobody will hurt you, Draco. I promise. I'm here, honey." The soft endearments and words fell from her mouth easily, having said them before when he needed her help.

Pansy didn't know how long she continued to whisper those words in his ear, but sometime later, his sobs became quieter and the muscles in his body loosened infinitesimally minute by minute. Her fingers started running through his hair, something his mother had done when he was younger and comforted him to this day. His twitch receded and he started hiccupping sporadically.

"Draco, you need to stop crying, now. You've gotten it out but now you need to talk to me. Do you understand? You need to tell me what's wrong." Her words become more forceful, knowing that now that he's had his cry, he needs someone to get him through the last stretch.

Draco nods into her shoulder and pulls away slightly. "Good boy, now tell me what's wrong."

"I'm l-like _him._ I tookted advent- o-of he- an-an…" his tears start falling more frequently again as he stutters and fumbles through what he's trying to tell her.

"Draco," she warns. "Stop that." Her voice is cutting and cold, but she knows it's what he needs right now. It's the same thing each time.

He breaks down and she quietly and soothingly comforts him. Then, when he starts to calm down, she takes a firmer hand, telling him what to do.

Pansy had accidentally come across this way of helping him. He had had a breakdown, their first time in their room, actually, and Draco kept going back and forth between calm and hysteric in quick succession and Pansy had no idea what to do to help him. Eventually she had shouted at him to "stop!" and he did, only whimpering occasionally.

That night, she continued to give him orders, working him through what had upset him so much before she requested the bed and they fell asleep in it, her holding him close to her under the blankets.

The next morning, after they both woke up, Draco requested some breakfast, and they talked about what had happened the night before. The came across the realization that, in everyday life, Draco needed to be in control, but there were other times, like when he broke down, that he needed someone else to be in control for him.

Later, when he was by himself, he decided to experiment and see if that need for control transferred into the bedroom. And it did. Oh boy, it did. He had stayed in the Room of Requirement long after Pansy had left, except requesting a very different kind of room.

Women appeared and he let them have their wicked way with him, seeing what he liked, and didn't like, them doing.

He didn't like the bondage, that had freaked him out, but he did like being told what to do. What positions he could be in and what he could or couldn't say. He liked the praise he received when he did something good but the punishments when he did something wrong were a hit or miss. He enjoyed a little pain, just not overly much.

But he didn't need this dominance to get off and have a good time.

As he experiment more and more, he found that it was only with some of the conjured women he truly felt comfortable doing this with. The others made the experience awkward and hard for him.

He never told Pansy about his new insight, and he only let himself enjoy this dominance in the Room of Requirement with the nameless women who probably weren't even real. There was no way he could find a partner in the school to do this with him. Word would spread like rapid fire and if it ever got back to his father that he liked having a woman control him sometimes in the bedroom, Lucius would give him another "lesson" on how to be a man.

And if it was anything like any of the other lessons Lucius gave him, it would be a painful one.

"Good job, Draco," Pansy praised him. "Now, I want you to calmly tell me what happened."

Draco took in a deep breath and started slowly pushing out the words. "I'm like _him._ I took advantage of her."

"Draco, you are not like him." Draco remained silent and looked down at his hands. Pansy's heart broke every time she saw him like this. Afraid and tormented that he was going to end up like his piece of shite father. "Draco, look at me." Her order flowed over him and he looked up at her from beneath his lashes. "Good. Good boy, Draco," she knew her praise would help. "You _are not _like him, Draco. Do you understand?

"You are a good man. Nothing like him. You help people, Draco. Not hurt them. You _will never _be like him. Okay? Tell me why you think you're like him."

Draco barely nodded and she knew that he was probably just nodding to appease her, but she couldn't do much more if he wasn't going to help her help him. "Alright. Let me get you cleaned up and then we'll get some shut eye, yes? I'm sure we could both use it." Draco didn't respond and he remained still as she literally worked her magic over him, cleaning up the blood and sealing some of his more serious wounds.

"Up," she told him, standing up herself. "It's time for bed. Make sure you take off your shoes." Draco stood and slowly headed towards the bed, kicking off his shoes as he went. He got under the covers and rested his head gingerly on a pillow.

Sighing, Pansy followed him, climbing in behind him and wrapping her arms around him, knowing that he still needed to be held and comforted if he was ever going to get to sleep.

Within minutes, Draco's soft snores filled the room, but it took Pansy much longer to succumb to sleep, worried over what had gotten him so upset.


End file.
